


Guess I'm Pretty Lucky

by splkespiegel



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: M/M, gay old men: the revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splkespiegel/pseuds/splkespiegel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hearing Spike apologize for anything, and sincerely to boot, was a rarity.<br/>(Set during/after Session 6: Sympathy for the Devil.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guess I'm Pretty Lucky

“Ah, quit complaining, you big klutz. You’re lucky you got away with this little scratch on your arm.” Jet grumbled as he wrapped a bandage around the graze on Spike’s forearm. He looked up and caught Spike staring at Zebra’s body on the bed across from them and sighed. “We don’t have the money to pay for a funeral.”

Spike paused for a fraction of a second and glanced over at Jet. “I’m sorry.” He said, locking his eyes back on Zebra.

Jet nearly spluttered before he caught himself and managed a quiet grunt instead. In the three years that they’d been living together, hearing Spike apologize for anything, and sincerely to boot, was a rarity. He did whatever he wanted, left the Bebop when he felt like it, got into fights with people wherever he went and just smiled made some smart-ass remark when he finally came back and Jet tore him to shreds for being so reckless. In fact, had Jet not known any better, he would’ve thought the apology was to Zebra and not him.

But having lived with him for that long, and especially in such close quarters, he’d learned to pick up on the little things. Spike had definitely glanced at Jet to make his apology before looking back to the bed Zebra was lying on. It was intended for him.

Even so, Jet didn’t acknowledge it. He wasn’t quite sure how to handle a response. What could he say? Thank you for apologizing for running off and getting shot at again even though you never apologized every other time? Thanks, but you’re still a reckless idiot and it’s a hassle having to deal with your shit day in and day out?

The truth was, Spike disappearing all the time never failed to terrify Jet. He didn’t know much about Spike’s past, or what kind of baggage he was dealing with, or really anything except that he was an asshole and Jet hated that he cared about him sometimes. But the amount of trouble he got himself into when he went at something alone was nigh unnatural – even plain bad luck couldn’t explain how he always came back to the Bebop with the Swordfish II a wreck and plenty of new scrapes and bruises for Jet to yell at him about while he was patching them both up. Clearly Spike had _something_ following him around, something bigger than all of them, and the thought of that something catching up with him made Jet shudder.

Later that night, after Spike miraculously came back unscathed from his solo mission, Jet paused outside of Spike’s room on the way to his own. The door was ajar and he could see Spike lying on his bed, eyes closed but clearly not asleep yet. Jet knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open enough for him to lean inside the room.

Spike opened one lazy eye and grinned that shit-eating grin of his. “Yo.”

“I’m sorry too. You need to be more careful.” Jet said before he could chicken out and walk off with a “just saying goodnight”.

“Y’know, you tell me I need to be more careful every time I walk through the door.” Spike said, still smiling.

“Yeah, that’s because whenever you get your butt kicked I have to deal with it.” Jet snarked right back at him. It was about as close to “I worry about you” as he would ever get.

“No one asked you to deal with it.”

Jet stopped in his tracks, the reply on the tip of his tongue dying. Spike was still smiling and he had shut his eyes again, but those words rendered Jet speechless.

Spike looked up at him after a moment, his smile fading. He had been expecting at least a “too bad buddy, you live on my ship and you live under my rules”, but now he was faced with Jet, still standing in his doorway like he wasn’t allowed to walk into the room, with a look on his face that could only be described as slightly hurt confusion. He liked working Jet up every now and again, but he didn’t like this at all.

He pulled himself off of the bed and towards the doorway, slouching just a little bit more than usual. He tried to look Jet in the eyes but couldn’t manage it, settling for staring at the floor. “Thank you. For everything.” He managed.

Jet sighed and, perhaps against his better judgement, wrapped his arms around Spike’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Spike seized up for a moment, not expecting the sudden display of affection, before pulling his hands out of his pockets and hugging Jet back.

"I know that I’m a lot of trouble to deal with.” Spike mumbled into Jet’s shoulder. “I have no idea how you put up with me sometimes.”

“What other choice do I have?” Jet smiled. “No one else is gonna do it, now, are they?”

“You’re probably right.” Spike laughed. “Guess I’m pretty lucky.”

“You bet you are.” Jet said, hugging him just a little bit tighter before letting go. “Get to bed. You need to rest up after today.”

“’Night.” Spike said, putting a hand on Jet’s shoulder. On impulse, before he could lose his nerve, he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Jet’s lips.

“See you in the morning.” He said as he pulled away, moving to shut the door.

Jet grabbed at Spike’s arm and pulled him in again, pressing his lips back to his in a lingering kiss. He felt Spike’s arms slide up his back and wrap around his neck, bringing him closer. This time, when they pulled away from each other, Jet pressed his forehead to Spike’s and stared into his eyes. Those eyes were so interesting – he had never asked about why they were two different colors, but sometimes he caught himself glancing at them when Spike wasn’t looking and wondering how a pair of eyes could be so captivating.

“So are you going to come in, or are you going to wait for Faye to walk down the hall and see us?” Spike said as he ran his fingers through Jet’s beard. “Because if you want to explain this to her, be my guest.”

“Hell no.” Jet grinned, following Spike into his room and kicking the door shut behind them. “But you still need to watch yourself a little better.” He nearly cringed at his own words, knowing it was just a little rude to bring up their earlier spat during such a tender moment, but Spike only chuckled.

“Trust me, I know. How about we hit the hay and talk about it in the morning? I’m beat.” As if to emphasize his point, Spike yawned hugely and fell back onto his bed, pulling Jet down with him.

“Oh, we are gonna have some words when you wake up.” Jet said, tangling his hand in Spike’s hair. The movement seemed natural in this new headspace, but on some level he still felt like the entire situation was off. Just yesterday Jet would have been lying in his own bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about his bonsai trees, or how they would get food money that month, or maybe, if he was feeling particularly lonely, about the little looks he had caught Spike giving him all day.

Spike, seeming to sense what Jet was feeling, buried his face in Jet’s neck. “It’s fine.” He mumbled, shutting his eyes when he finally felt Jet relax against him.

That night, Spike didn’t wake up at two in the morning in a cold sweat, with a name he dared not speak on his lips. For once in the past three years, his sleep was deep and dreamless.


End file.
